I'm painting January with the book of John, trying not to fight the nature of the season, but rather to allow my spirit the room to walk through the chill and the barren without the implied despair she brings. January has always felt tasky to me: Christmas mess, returns, purging, taxes, resolutions...and the realization that winter is upon us and the glistening magic decided to marry December & forgo the rest of the season. But this year, I'm doing my best to align myself with the rhythm of the seasons. To embrace the forced quieting winter brings, allowing myself to prepare, to rest, to recharge in preparation for life to burst forth as the spring solstice approaches.
I've found my spirit hungrier than ever for substance, for more of God than I can possibly handle. And so I am asking him for just that. For his daily presence so near, for a fresh understanding of the beauty of his Son, and to know Him like I never have. My sister bought me this wonderful book:
And I am finding it completely delicious as I encounter, perhaps for the first time, the 3d picture of the personality of Jesus. I am asking him that as I study through John's accounts, that he helps me to know him as he is, as he wants to be known. And that he shows himself not just through scripture, but in my everyday life. I think we make a lot of assumptions about who Christ is and how he works based upon our interpretation of life, and without realizing it, these presuppositions begin to taint and distort not only our picture of Jesus, but our walk with him.
The other night I was laying in bed nearly in tears as for a brief, sweet moment, I could clearly see the big picture beauty of just how amazingly good God really is. (Moments like these remind me of watching a breathtaking sunset. You try as hard as you can to soak it in, to make it last, memorizing every glowing hue, because soon the light of the moment fades and darkness creeps in until you can no longer see at all. You find that you have to trust the memory of the sunset and the promise of another one coming in due time to walk through the dark places, until you once again behold the glory that paints your world heavenly.) The next thoughts ushered in unspoken questions of when the proverbial 'other shoe would fall', awaking me to announce there really is no 'happily ever after'. When the 'but' statement would rush in and steal the beauty of his unending love. Gently, God whispered to my spirit, that there is no other shoe through Christ. He really is fairy-tale good. And the richness of this inheritance that I did nothing to deserve only ripens with time like a good wine.
So I am breathing in of His spirit (which according to John 3:34 he gives without limit), and it warms and satisfies, even and especially in winter's wait.